Smith's Monthly #39: Smith's Monthly, #39

By Dean Wesley Smith

Over sixty thousand words of original fiction from USA Today bestselling writer Dean Wesley Smith.

In this thirty-ninth monthly volume the full novel Ace High: A Cold Poker Gang Novel, plus four short stories and the nonfiction book Writing a Novel in Five Days While Traveling.

Short Stories

That Old Tingling: A Marble Grant Story

The Man Who Laughed on a Rainy Night: A Bryant Street Story

Last Man Out

Shadow in the City

Full Novel

Ace High: A Cold Poker Gang Novel

Nonfiction

Writing a Novel in Five Days While Traveling

Introduction: On Site Research

• Language: English
• Publisher: WMG Publishing
• Release date: Jul 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386149859

Dean Wesley Smith

Considered one of the most prolific writers working in modern fiction, USA TODAY bestselling writer, Dean Wesley Smith published far over a hundred novels in forty years, and hundreds of short stories across many genres. He currently produces novels in four major series, including the time travel Thunder Mountain novels set in the old west, the galaxy-spanning Seeders Universe series, the urban fantasy Ghost of a Chance series, and the superhero series staring Poker Boy. During his career he also wrote a couple dozen Star Trek novels, the only two original Men in Black novels, Spider-Man and X-Men novels, plus novels set in gaming and television worlds.

Book preview

CONTENTS

Short Stories

That Old Tingling: A Marble Grant Story

The Man Who Laughed on a Rainy Night: A Bryant Street Story

Last Man Out

Shadow in the City

Full Novel

Ace High: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery

Nonfiction

Introduction: On Site Research

Writing a Novel in Five Days While Traveling

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Copyright Information

On Site Research

This last winter I took a road trip from my home on the Oregon Coast to Las Vegas, Nevada. Now that is not a short drive and even longer in the winter, so I hoped to do some writing along the way and maybe while in Las Vegas.

I managed to keep up my blog along the drive and talk about the idea of writing a novel while in Las Vegas while visiting with friends and playing some tournament poker.

It seemed like a fun idea at the time.

Turned out I was right.

So I checked myself into a very nice suite in the Golden Nugget Casino and Hotel in downtown Las Vegas, set up my writing computer on a nice desk in the suite, and then took a walk.

It was a crisp but clear night in Las Vegas, and the parties were going on as always. I left the Fremont Street Experience and headed up Ogden Street toward the Ogden Condos, a huge, block-wide building that towers over downtown Las Vegas. Two of my characters in my novel series Cold Poker Gang have penthouse apartments there.

I figured since I was in Las Vegas, I might as well write a Cold Poker Gang novel. I explored around the Ogden Condos, then walked toward the Strip through a pretty seedy part of town, especially at night.

About ten blocks toward the strip I stopped and looked up at the Stratosphere Casino. I was in such a position that it made me remember the old Landmark Hotel and Casino owned by Howard Hughes and if I had been standing on that corner back in the 1980s I would have been able to see it.

The Landmark used to tower in the air as the highest building in Las Vegas, a replica of the Space Needle in Seattle.

Now I am showing my age. I have been going to Las Vegas since 1972 to play cards, often professionally. And I love the city and I remember clearly exactly where the Landmark had stood.

Standing there on that street corner, I knew instantly I had to write something about the Landmark. So I turned around and headed back to my suite. I had no idea what the plot might be, but I knew it had to do with my two retired detectives who lived in the Ogden and the book would also have something to do with the old Landmark Hotel and Casino.

Now, here, in this issue, you can read Ace High: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery, the results of that walk that night, all written while in a wonderful suite in Las Vegas.

And you can read the entire book made up of all my blog posts about the writing of Ace High: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery.

I sure hope you enjoy the read as much as I did the writing.

—Dean Wesley Smith

May 28, 2017

Marble Grant, superhero, discovers a lot of training goes along with being dead.

But with the training, she felt like a kid again, only thankfully she didn’t have to start all the way back in diapers.

Just about the point she gets the hang of the basics of being a Ghost Agent, she meets her new partner, Sally Glass, Sim to her friends,

Two hot women ghosts with attitude. What could possibly be better?

That Old Tingling

A Marble Grant Story

One

Who knew that so much training went along with being dead. I felt like a kid again, only I didn’t have to start all the way back in diapers.

But I did have to learn how to use restrooms, since it seemed ghosts had to pee and eat and everything else and for a woman having the lid up on a toilet was a critical factor. I couldn’t lift a lid yet.

One of the very first lessons I learned was to check to see if some woman was in a stall before sticking my head through the stall door to see if the lid was up.

Learned that lesson the hard way. Ugly hard way. I’ll never get that sight or that smell out of my memory. Four hundred pounds, almost nude, and clearly the poor woman had eaten something very, very wrong.

Rotten fish and dead animal under a bridge kind of wrong.

Luckily the poor woman didn’t hear me gasp, cough disgustingly, and stumble back and through the wall and right into the men’s room. Let me tell you, that morning I heard noises from the stalls in that men’s room I didn’t know were possible for a human to make.

A girl could get real traumatized being dead, of that there was no doubt. Jewel said when I returned to the breakfast table that I was almost ghost white. Ghost-white skin didn’t match my purple hair or my bright yellow blouse no matter how dead I was.

I also had to figure out how to eat and start learning how to actually touch something physical and move it. You know, things like toilet lids. My trainers of the dead, Jewel and Tommy, said that would take me time.

As with everything else they taught me, they had been right.

After three months of training, I knew how to control live people, knew how to eat and dress with ghost food and clothing, and could get around pretty well by teleporting, just as I had as a superhero.

I was feeling pretty darned good about it all, actually.

I also had learned more about sex by being inside of people’s heads than I had learned dating men and women both for over a hundred years. Wow, some folks out there really were kinky. I mean I liked to experiment and I sure enjoyed sex, but some of the stuff I saw in people’s minds just made me look away.

Damn tough when you are in a person’s mind, let me tell you.

My best friend of the last hundred years, Patty, who was still alive and a superhero like I used to be before a bullet implanted itself into my forehead, helped me get a nifty and large two-bedroom condo in Las Vegas on the fifth floor of the Ogden Building downtown.

Her boyfriend, Poker Boy, seemed to have more money than Fort Knox and he bought the place and all the furniture and fixtures I wanted, as well as all my clothes.

I kissed him on the cheek and told him I doubted I would ever be able to pay him back. He had just laughed.

Patty told me later that was his embarrassed laugh. Then she told me he would never miss the money in the slightest. Seems Fort Knox couldn’t match his money. Playing poker and investing the money smartly over time had clearly been good for him. Besides, he figured the condo was an investment since I sure couldn’t own it or sell it.

Patty had helped me shop for clothes. Ghosts could take and wear the ghost part of any clothing. But if I actually had the physical clothes hanging in my closet, I could always wear the ghost part of the outfit any time I wanted.

And no damn laundry. I just tossed the dirty clothes in a basket and a day or so later the ghost clothes vanished. They went back and joined their real part in the closet, all neat and fresh just as I bought it for me to use again.

Didn’t get better than that.

So Poker Boy had given me and Patty an unlimited credit card and I now had my bedroom and a hall closet full of brand new clothes and shoes and sexy underwear, even though I doubted the sexy part of the underwear were going to get used any time soon.

The vibrator that Patty helped me buy got used regularly to cure that old tingling, especially when I happened to stumble into an attractive man or woman and read their thoughts and their likes and dislikes in the bedroom.

Those images from those people’s minds made for some good before-sleep fantasy workouts with that vibrator.

Yeah, kind of being a voyeur, I know, but a ghost does what a ghost can do.

I decided to not fill my extra bedroom closet with clothes just yet. Never knew when someone alive or dead would need a guest room. So Patty and I furnished it with a large bed, wooden dresser, and a reading chair with lamp.

One thing for certain, it was great to have rich live friends when a person was a ghost. Made living a ton more comfortable. I had had a nice place in Boise before I died, but nothing like this condo.

Everything in it was ultra modern and clean and the couch and chairs in the living room were actually comfortable. I had dozed off numbers of time already watching movies on that couch.

The kitchen was enough to make me want to learn how to cook, even though I lived in a city with some of the best restaurants in the world I could get food from at any moment.

I had gotten into a habit at night for dinner of going to a new restaurant and bringing back to my place one of their specialties. Something different every night sure kept things interesting in the food department.

The view of the condo was toward the Strip and the balcony had a glass table and five surprisingly comfortable chairs. On warm evenings I usually ate dinner out there, just enjoying the feel of being lucky.

Yeah, I know, I had been killed and I was now a ghost.

Still I felt damn lucky.

Two

I was enjoying one of the sweetest-tasting peach daiquiris on my balcony just before sunset four months after I had died when Jewel and Tommy appeared.

I had yet to jump to get dinner, but I had plans on trying a barbeque plate from a place in the MGM Grand where Patty worked. She said it was wonderful.

Jewel and Tommy both had on their normal jeans, expensive shirt and blouse, and tennis shoes. Together they were the most attractive couple I had ever met. Stunning model-like looks. Tommy had those wide shoulders of a cop and Jewel was thin and trim and always looked perfectly together.

Did I mention they were also two of the smartest people I had ever met as well. Both had higher degrees and Jewel had been a medical doctor. And on top of all that, they were just flat nice people. Go figure.

Sorry to bother you without checking ahead, Jewel said. But we figured you would want to join us.

I took a long drink of the daiquiri as I stood. You know me. Always up for an adventure. Where are we headed?

Your partner is about to join us, Jewel said.

Damn right I want to be there, I said, laughing.

I had been hearing since almost the moment I discovered I was a ghost that I would have a ghost partner at some point joining me. I knew nothing at all about this person. No one would say a word since the person was still alive. So it had sort of been one of those nagging events coming that I had mostly just put out of my mind.

Jewel smiled. Then let’s go.

And the next thing I knew I was standing in a hot, dry desert on the shoulder of a two-lane paved road. The sun looked exactly like it had from my condo balcony, so I figured I was somewhere in the desert southwest.

We’re fifty miles to the north of Las Vegas, Tommy said.

The two-lane highway stretched off into the distance in both directions. There was not a building or a soul in sight. A slight breeze was doing some wonderful things with my nipples through my thin blouse and my long purple hair was blowing slightly around my shoulders.

I had on my evening kick-around-the-condo sweat pants and tennis shoes. I certainly hadn’t dressed for this occasion.

We stood there on the edge of the road in the fading light for a good minute with nothing happening.

We in the wrong place? I finally asked.

Never was one for just standing and waiting. Another nice thing about being dead, I seldom had to stand and wait for anything.

Tommy pointed to the north. In the distance I could see a single light coming toward us. That would be the first car to pass us since we got here.

Only it became clear fairly quickly that it wasn’t a car, but a motorcycle. And it was moving at an insane speed.

As the motorcycle was about to flash past us, a coyote jumped up from the ditch beside the road and the motorcycle hit the creature square in the side. Neither the poor coyote, or the motorcyclist, had even an instant to react.

I watched as the motorcyclist in black leathers and black wrap-around helmet went sailing past us about thirty feet in the air over our heads.

The impact of the cyclist hitting the road was an awful sound.

The cyclist started doing uncontrolled cartwheels along the pavement.

To one side of us the remains of the coyote landed in two parts.

On the other side of the road the big black motorcycle was doing cartwheels out into the desert brush, flipping parts in all directions like a stripper shedding clothes.

I wanted to be sick.

That accident had to be one of the most horrid things I had ever witnessed.

Hands down the most violent.

Being a superhero in the real estate and hospitality areas didn’t much call for extreme violence.

Three

The three of us stood there on the side of the road without talking. I don’t think any of us had expected the intense violence of that accident. That cyclist must have been going well over a hundred miles per hour.

The body finally slid to a stop about a football field’s distance away from us and a moment later the cyclist in all black, still wearing a helmet, was sitting on a rock to the right of the road closer to us than the body.

That’s our signal, Jewel said and led the way as the three of us walked up the road toward the cyclist.

I was working on taking deep breaths, pushing the image of that accident out of my mind so that I could focus forward. This person was supposed to be my future partner. Certainly he or she was someone who liked to take risks.

If nothing else, that might get interesting at times.

The three of us stopped near the cyclist who looked up, face hidden by the black faceplate on the helmet. Then two gloved hands came up and took off the helmet, shaking loose long blonde hair.

Sitting there on the rock, newly dead, was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. She had deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a short nose.

She looked completely stunned and even with that look she was beautiful.

What happened? she asked, looking at us.

You had an accident, Jewel said.

The woman shook her head and took off her gloves, tucking them into her helmet in a practiced move.

Not likely. At that speed I would be dead. And I don’t even have a scratch on me.

None of us said a word. We just let her slowly figure it out for herself.

Finally Jewel introduced the three of us.

I’m Sally Glass, the woman said.

Where are you from? Jewel asked.

I was impressed at how calm and level Jewel sounded. I was still having trouble getting my heart under control from the violence of that crash and also the beauty of the woman sitting on the rock in front of me.

I was attracted to women as much as I was to men. And clearly Sally was my type.

Also, her name sounded very, very familiar.

The more I looked at Sally under those motorcycle leathers, the more I realized she was about my size and shape at five-eight. That would be helpful in getting her some clothing.

The nagging feeling I knew her kept getting stronger like a bad itch in a place I couldn’t scratch.

Boise, Sally said, pointing back north. "Wanted to spend a few days in Vegas and clear my head a little.

I was from Boise, I said, working to keep my voice as calm as I could. I worked real estate there among other things.

Sally nodded. Banks and construction, among other things. And you look very familiar.

I was thinking the same for you, I said.

Jewel glanced at me and nodded. She was about to say something when Patty appeared.

I suddenly felt very relieved that a real live person was here.

Patty, Sally said, standing and sounding happy.

Hi, Sim, Patty said.

The two women stepped toward each other hugged on the edge of the road.

I was hoping to get to see you on this trip, Sim said.

The moment Patty said Sim I knew who this woman was. She was also a superhero in the banking side. Patty had always talked about getting the three of us together at some point, but it had never happened. Seems Sim and Patty had met about fifty years ago when Sim became a superhero.

But now we had finally met, in the middle of the desert, with Sim’s broken body crumpled in a pile beside the road about fifty steps away.

So what is this all about? Sim asked.

You had an accident, Patty said.

That’s what they—Oh, crap, I’m a Ghost Agent.

Sim suddenly looked like she needed to sit down again and Patty moved to Sim’s right and I went to her left side and we braced her.

You are a Ghost Agent now, Jewel said. Tommy, Marble, and I are all three Ghost Agents. Marble is also a superhero like you.

I’m dead? Sim asked. Really dead?

Jewel nodded and pointed to the body.

Sim looked around until she spotted her own body and then nodded. I knew there was no way I could survive an accident at that speed. Did you see it? Must have been spectacular.

Violent, I said, enjoying holding her up a little more than I probably should have at that moment. And I’m afraid to say the coyote you hit didn’t make it either.

Sim laughed and shook her head.

So you hungry? Jewel asked.

Sim frowned. I was really hungry before all this. One of the reasons I was going so fast. And I still am. Do ghosts eat?

Take it from a newly-made Ghost Agent as well, I said. We do eat and everything tastes better than you can imagine.

Jewel and Tommy both nodded to that.

Sim looked at me, then nodded. You were killed in a double murder in an alley in Boise about four months ago. Right?

I nodded.

I remember when that happened and was surprised Patty wasn’t more upset than she was when I heard it was you.

I laughed. She’s been helping me. Wait until you see the condo she and Poker Boy got me to live in.

Can’t wait, Sim said and smiled at me.

I damn near melted right there in the desert. Working with this woman was going to be heaven. And if she didn’t like women as a sexual partner, my poor vibrator would get a regular workout.

Patty looked at me. All right if Sim borrows something to wear?

I laughed. Never a problem. I think we bought me more than enough.

Patty turned to Jewel and Tommy. How about the three of us meet you at the Golden Nugget buffet in fifteen minutes.

We’ll be there, Jewel and Tommy said and vanished.

A moment later we were out of the slight wind of the desert and in my condo.

The idea of getting to help train Sim to be a Ghost Agent over the next months had me excited to say the least. But watching her strip naked in my bedroom topped any thought of that being the most exciting.

Her body was